The Way

In your time of the heart's desolation
The imperial peace of despair
I don't call it brave to feel no fear
Nor, feeling, to put on false airs
You're brave, my dear, to fight a whole war inside you
In silence, unmoved by the myths of the age

Bright, dark eyes, show me the way
Yours was made to love, mine made to pray

If your mind could have its own way with the world
You'd set all the prisoners free
And love—sweet love—would not need a champion
Nor lover a lie to believe
The silent greenbrier rose in your heart
Lonely, grows into song

Bright, dark eyes, show me the way
Yours was made to love, mine made to pray

Bright, dark eyes, show me the way
Yours was made to love, mine made to pray